


The Naked Truth

by doctor_bitchcraftt



Series: Boatnecks and Fishnets [16]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hangover, M/M, Sharing a Bed, some drunk fan won’t let go of bianca
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 10:05:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17847344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctor_bitchcraftt/pseuds/doctor_bitchcraftt
Summary: A drunk Adore was handsy and flirtatious, and being drunk with Bianca tended to erase their already barely existent sense of personal space.  They’d fallen asleep together countless times over the years in any number of locations (tour buses, taxis, Courtney’s living room floor), to the point that waking up tangled around each other was the closest thing to normal.None of that made waking up naked in bed together any less awkward.





	The Naked Truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CivonumisAdore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CivonumisAdore/gifts).



> This started out as another humorous installment of “Five Times...”, but took a serious turn and ended up as a stand-alone.

Bianca didn’t so much wake up as be bludgeoned into consciousness by the headache.  She might have been able to ignore her throbbing temples if they hadn’t been accompanied by the feeling of her brain sloshing around inside of her head.  Her chest felt horribly heavy, and the bedsheets might as well be a sauna.

There was a reason she liked to stick to wine.  This felt like the mother of all hard alcohol hangovers.

Opening her eyes didn’t help much, because all she could see was a mass of dark hair that seemed to be covering her entire face.  Last night was a slightly blank spot, and Bianca closed her eyes again and tried very hard not to move.

Did she pass out before de-dragging?  It didn’t happen often these days, but it was always a possibility.  That might explain why she was having trouble breathing, except the constriction stretched unevenly from just under her collarbone on the right down across both hips.  

A low groan directly into her ear made her flinch hard enough that her head started spinning.  

Shit.

What was most definitely not a corset resolved itself into an arm and leg rather effectively pinning her in place, at least until the hangover wore off enough that she could pry the limbs off.  

Bianca tried to turn her head to see who might be sharing her bed, feeling stubble brushing against her cheek.

At least it probably wasn’t a woman.  That would be even more awkward.

Whoever it was had their face pressed against her shoulder, breath fanning hot over her throat.  Another groan that sounded more alert was followed by lips pressing purposefully up the side of her neck and the hand starting to slide teasingly across her ribs.

Great.  A morning sex person.  After whatever night she’d had, that was firmly off the table.

Bianca glanced down her own body and silently thanked whatever deity watched over drag queens as the MEOW tattooed on the hand currently roaming her torso swam into focus.

Identity panic resolved, Bianca set about trying to get free.

”Ahh-“ The name caught in her dry throat, and she tried again.

”Adore.”

”Mmmmm....whuh?”  Adore nuzzled the skin behind her ear.

”Do you mind?”

The fingers stopped mid-caress, and Bianca relaxed when the lips pulled away from her neck.  She’d tease Adore about mistaking her for trade after the hangover wore off.  

“Sorry.”

Her sense of relief vanished as she suddenly became aware of two things.  

One, Adore was naked.  That in itself wasn’t an unusual state of being, although she always wore at least underwear to bed if they were sharing.  

Two, and more distressingly, Bianca realized that she was too.

Frozen in place, she met sleepy green eyes with a look of dawning panic as Adore pushed herself up on one arm and raised the other hand to her face.  Glancing down their bare bodies, she voiced Bianca’s sentiments perfectly.

”Oh fuck.”

********

Being a drag queen meant viewing your sisters in various states of undress with the same disinterest as when they were clothed.  The ABCD shared dressing rooms often enough that most of the time, no one even bothered to go into the bathroom to tuck, and Adore was notoriously unselfconscious about standing around in a skimpy thong or nothing at all.  

A drunk Adore was handsy and flirtatious, and being drunk with Bianca tended to erase their already barely existent sense of personal space.  They’d fallen asleep together countless times over the years in any number of locations (tour buses, taxis, Courtney’s living room floor), to the point that waking up tangled around each other was the closest thing to normal.

None of that made waking up naked in bed together any less awkward.

Bianca yanked the sheets around her waist as Adore scrambled back with what was probably an identical expression of shock.

”Ummmm.”

Sitting up, it was readily apparent that below what was left of her makeup, Adore’s neck was liberally painted with love-bites.  Bianca wiped a hand across her own face, coming away with a smear of lipstick and foundation.  

Adore was staring at her torso with a horrified fascination, and Bianca was almost afraid to look down.  Swallowing, she followed her gaze.  

A hand-shaped bruise was visible low on her ribs, as if she’d been grabbed from behind.  There was an even darker one around her left wrist, tenderness making itself known as her headache receded.

”Fuck.”

”Did we...?”

Adore winced and turned her hands over to reveal a set of grazes on both palms that looked suspiciously like carpet burns.

”Shit.”

Bianca shifted uncomfortably, aware of how sore the backs of her thighs were, watching as Adore seemed to be having the same problem.

”B?”  Her voice spiraled impossibly far up on the one syllable.

”...yeah?”  Bianca was amazed at how calm she sounded.  

Adore clapped a pillow across her lap and her expression combined a grimace with barely controlled panic.

“My ass hurts.”  

********

They stared at each other in uncomfortable silence for what felt like an hour (Bianca’s internal clock declared it to be more like a minute or two).

”Well,” she managed eventually, “I don’t suppose you remember what happened last night?”

Adore had her knees pulled up to her chest in a defensive posture that normally had no place around Bianca.  She chewed her lip and broke eye contact, focusing instead on a point halfway down her torso.

”No.  Just the after party.  Drinking with Detox?  Maybe?”

Without looking away, Bianca reached blindly towards the nightstand to retrieve her phone. It refused to power on, and seemed slightly damp.  She fumbled for the charging cable and hoped that it wouldn’t short out.

If her phone was dead, Adore’s wouldn’t likely be in any better shape.  Wherever it was.

Silence between them was never brittle like this, and it made Bianca’s stomach twist.  She forced her mind to consider what might have happened based on the physical evidence, and fought the urge to mirror Adore’s position.

Adore was objectively beautiful, in drag or out, but that wasn’t unusual for a queen.  She was also amazingly talented, gifted in a way that Bianca could only watch and support with...adoration. 

It was a given that they loved each other beyond what most people might consider normal for friends.  Physical affection was second nature, to the point that fans had entire blogs dedicated to their supposed relationship (and their theories ranged from plausible to amusingly ridiculous).  

Bianca had never tried to put words to whatever unspoken _something_ existed between them.  It wasn’t like the clear sexual tension between Trixie and Katya, or the obvious affection Sharon still harbored for Alaska.  As close as they were, there was one definite line they hadn’t crossed, for all of Bianca’s stage material on gleefully breaking boundaries.  

The possibility of touch becoming awkward hit like a gut punch.  What if hugs and casual cuddling were suddenly uncomfortable?  The thought of not having Adore curled up safe in bed beside her after her tour hookups or napping together after a shopping trip was more painful than any broken heart from an ex-boyfriend.

“B?”  Adore’s voice brought her back to reality, shaken and quiet, still huddled in on herself.

”I’m here.”  

”Did I fuck up?”

Bianca’s head snapped up.

”What?  No.  How-“

”I’m always the one that fucks things up.  You’re too important to mess up.”  Adore looked as completely miserable and scared as Bianca felt.

”Adore.  If anything happened...we don’t know that it did.”  Bianca squeezed the bridge of her nose in a futile attempt to make her brain stop vibrating.  “And it’s both our faults if we’re assigning blame.  We were probably the same level of drunk anyway.”

Adore shook her head, still not meeting her eyes.

”B...”    

”Talk to me.”

“I think I hurt you.”  Bianca could barely hear her.

“...what?  I’m fine.  Hungover as fuck, but...”

“I wouldn’t ever try to hurt you.”

”What do you mean?  Of course you wouldn’t.”

Adore finally met her eyes, before reaching out a hand to hover a few inches away from her chest.  Looking down, Bianca could see the bruises on her ribs were roughly the same size as Adore’s fingers.

Oh.

“I honestly can’t remember what we did last night.”  She spoke slowly, feeling the words out.  “Or even if anything happened, and if it did happen...but it’s okay.  For all I know, we were trying to wrestle Detox or something.”

”You can’t remember, so what if it’s my fault?  You’re gonna hate me.”

”Never.  Doesn’t matter what, I’m not mad.”

”You don’t want to touch me now.”

Before the words fully registered in her brain, Bianca closed the distance between them and pulled Adore against her unbruised side.

”I thought you might not want me to.”

The pain in her chest faded when she felt Adore carefully wrapping her arms around her in return.

********

Neither of them made any move away from each other until Bianca’s phone pinged.  She kept one hand on Adore’s shoulder as she retrieved it, relieved to see a partial charge despite its dampness.

Thumbing the screen on, she unlocked her phone and blinked at the dozens of notifications from social media that immediately popped up.  She ignored all of them in favor of a text from Alyssa.

 **[3:18 AM] Alyssa Edwards** Gurrrrrlll, whn ur awake, someon got it on vid

The next text was a link to an Instagram whose name she didn’t recognize.

She recognized a few photos of the venue and performances, which meant whoever it was had been in the audience.  Their vantage point seemed to be from the second level balcony, with a decent view of both the stage and the floor below.  The user story was highighted, and she paused with her thumb hovering over it. 

Bianca hoped it didn’t confirm any of Adore’s fears.  Surely, at least a dozen of their sisters would have texted if someone had posted a video of them doing anything out of the ordinary.  Hell, they’d probably receive a fruit basket from the Haus of Edwards and a congratulation card from Joslyn.

She set the phone down long enough to stack the pillows back against the headboard, relieved when Adore only hesitated for a few seconds before accepting the invitation of her outstretched arm.  Whereas Adore would normally be invading her personal space or sprawled half on top of Bianca, she kept their bodies carefully separate below the chest.

“Ready?”

”...I guess?”

Bianca gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze.

”Doesn’t matter what it is, I promise we’re okay.”

“But-“

”Have I ever lied to you?”

”...no.”

She tapped the video to start.

********

_“-that’s how I get my wig so high!”  Bianca stood at the edge of the stage, hand on her hip and smirking at the audience who howled with laughter._

_As she started in on the setup for another joke, the video panned from the stage to the VIP area where several queens were drinking and cheerfully heckling Bianca._

_”Ohmygod,” the person filming gasped and the picture shook slightly.  “Look, it’s Adore!”_

_Next to the VIP area, Adore was standing between the legs of someone sitting on a table, drink in one hand and their shirt collar grasped in the other._

_“Trish, look!”_

_A girl, presumably Trish, appeared on the side of the frame as she leaned over the railing._

_”Fucking lucky asshole, wish I was a guy so I had a chance.”_

_Below, Adore was sharing a messy kiss while in the background Bianca delivered a punchline about dick size and cars before launching into her closing.  She broke the kiss with a giggle and tilted her head to the side, giving them access to her neck and shoulder._

_The crowd made a discontented noise, and the video swung back to the stage._

_Clearly drunk, a guy had climbed up on the stage, swaying slightly as he moved forward.  Bianca took a step back; even with heels and wig on, he was almost as tall and definitely broader._

_”-this is what happens when you mix poppers with Jack Daniels - you get this asshole who thinks he’s the shit.”  Moving towards the other side of the stage, Bianca kept up her rapid fire delivery as the crowd booed the intruder._

_She stopped on the edge of the stage nearest the VIP area, where a few of the queens were starting to stand up.  One of the local queens, sporting a neon green jumpsuit and matching hair, leaned over the railing and grabbed for Adore’s shoulder._

_He now had both arms around Bianca, whose expression spoke of distaste as she jerked her head away from an attempt at a kiss._

_”Security?  Hello?”  Bianca pitched her voice as a joke, but the camera zoom showed her frowning.  “You’re touching me, asshole.  It’s not cute.”_

_”What the fuck,” Trish’s voice spilled over the booing, “where’s the security guy?”_

_The queen’s hand finally caught Adore’s attention, and she_   _turned towards the stage as the guy started trying to get Bianca to dance with him._

_”These wooden legs don’t dance.”_

_Two fans boosted a barefoot Adore up onto the edge of the stage.  Bianca made eye contact and tilted her head in a ‘come here’ gesture._

_“Seriously?  Motherfucker, hands off.  You don’t touch a queen till she asks.”_

_”Asshole,” the mic picked up Adore’s voice as she tried to use her body to separate them, “get off her.”_

_“Get him Adore!” came shouts from below._

_At the edge of the frame, a security guy in a yellow shirt was trying to move from the bar to the stage, but was blocked by a solid wall of bodies.  The crowd’s boos drowned out his attempts to make himself heard, and he doubled back towards the bar to go around._

_Adore had managed to plant herself between them and was fighting with his hands on Bianca’s arms.  He appeared oblivious to everything but his single-minded focus on Bianca._

_”Security?  Where the fuck are you?”  Bianca was leaning back as far as possible, gesturing with the mic to wave off several members of the crowd who seemed to be offering to help._

_”You’re squeezing my jewelry,” she continued, still trying to turn the situation around, “I borrowed these from Joslyn Fox, and if I don’t give them back-“_

_Just then, security reached the edge of the stage and caught the guy’s ankle.  He paused, and security got a grip on the back of his shirt, pulling him offstage as the crowd cheered._

_As he moved, it became clear that he hadn’t released his drunken hold on Bianca’s wrist, jerking her forward as he fell back.  His weight pulled her down into a crouch and she tried to stand back up, arm outstretched.  Adore moved quickly, wrapping an arm around her waist as an anchor.  A second security guy arrived as the first lost his grip and fell into him, knocking both to the ground._

_Trish gasped offscreen as he tripped and yanked Bianca clean off her heels and away from Adore’s support, landing square on one of the monitors at the edge of the stage.  Adore scrambled to loop both arms around her and leaned back hard as he continued dragging Bianca down in a twisted mockery of tug-of-war._

_”Someone help her!” the person filming yelled._

_Seconds later, both security guys tackled him, forcing him to let go.  Freed from the forceful pulling, Adore stumbled backwards and sat down hard on the stage, hands slamming down too late to break her fall, and Bianca sprawled over her._

_After a moment of stunned silence, Bianca slowly climbed to her feet, leaning heavily on Adore._

_”Well. I don’t know about you, but I’m going to need to drink until I forget that happened.  You never know-“_

The video cut out there, leaving Bianca and Adore just as surprised at their recorded counterparts.  

That certainly explained all of their various bruises, as well as who had been leaving hickeys on Adore’s neck.

Bianca rubbed her wrist on the sheet, as if she could wipe the finger marks off.  

“Well, I see why we got blackout drunk,” she muttered.

”Would have thought my knuckles would be busted up though.”

”What?  Why?”

”Security or no, I should have beaten the shit out of that guy.”  Adore’s hand hovered just over her bruised wrist before gently settling on it.  “He hurt you.”

Bianca blinked at the fierce protectiveness radiating off Adore, surprised and oddly warmed at the thought.  

“I’ve had worse.  And at least we know we didn’t try to have sex after that.  Although,” she turned her hand over to grip Adore’s, “still doesn’t explain why we’re naked.”

Silence again, broken only by the sound of rain driving against the hotel room window.  It was a comfortable silence this time, tension drained out as Bianca thanked the drag queen deity again for making it clear they hadn’t fucked up their relationship by, well...fucking.

“Hey B?”  

“Yeah?”

”It’s raining.”

”So?  It’s been storming since we got he-“ Bianca clamped her mouth shut as realization dawned.

”We got shit faced drunk,” Adore said slowly.  “And the club is four blocks from here.”

Finally looking around the room, Bianca spotted the black sequined gown she’d worn the night before, draped over the desk chair with a wet spot on the carpet underneath.  Her tights and corset were on the other bed with damp spots of their own, next to a pile of pleather and mesh that was probably Adore’s outfit.

”What are the odds we walked back in drag, in a complete downpour?”

”I suck at math.”

”You know what I meant.  We packed everything before the show, and I doubt either of us was sober enough to operate a lock when we got back.”

“True facts.  Explains the naked part.  But uhhh,” Adore glanced down, “why was I sleeping with you?”

”Queen, where do you usually end up when we’re drunk?”  She paused to let that one sink in. “Snoring in my ear.”  

”Bitch, you snore too!”  

“Thank god we didn’t fuck.”

”Wow.”

”You know what I mean.”

Adore dropped her head onto Bianca’s shoulder.

”If we ever did, think I’d want to remember it.”

Bianca felt the beginnings of a smile for the first time since she’d woken up.

”I ain’t bottoming for you, queen.  I’ve seen what you’re packing.”

“Biiiiiiitchhhhh, same.”

 

[Read the lighter version in Five Times People Caught Adore & Bianca.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17623781/chapters/42132791)

**Author's Note:**

> This exact situation never happened as far as I know. However, there is a video of Bianca performing for a drunken crowd where someone physically drags her onstage, and after my initial horrified reaction all I could think about was how -small- Bianca really is without the drag, and that that kind of thing could really injure a queen. Add that to wanting to write a story where she and Adore wake up thinking they might have had sex...you get the picture.
> 
> The incident referenced is https://youtu.be/th0-AZypAic at around 41:00.


End file.
